


Herbology

by etcetera_cat



Series: Grass is Greener [4]
Category: Valdemar series - Lackey
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-05
Updated: 2010-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 22:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etcetera_cat/pseuds/etcetera_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never trust a mushroom. Always blame the mushrooms. Do unto the mushroom before it does unto you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Herbology

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written in June 2006.

_:I don't see why my delinquent layabout of a brother couldn't do this.:_ I complain loudly. _:It's not like I didn't have any plans for the day.:_ I pick my way around a stand of large bushes and fix my companion with a grumpy look.

Or rather; I would, if he was _there._ Since he isn't, I'm left looking round in a puzzled fashion.

"Lying about in the sun snoring is a planned event, now?" The voice floats up from behind yet _another_ load of offensively large and plant-like bushes and I track towards it.

_:You're going to be walking home at this rate, boyo.:_

A gangly figure; all elbows and knees, with light brown hair that looks like a disreputable haystack, and a pair of bright green eyes emerges from the depths of one of the bushes and gives me a repentant look. I don't believe it for a _moment._ "You know I love you _really_ Auntie Teva," his face splits with a large grin as I groan.

_:Jayk, how many times have I told you not to call me 'Auntie'? It makes me feel old.:_ I sound plaintive; something which only prolongs Jayk's grin.

He finishes disentangling himself from the bush and walks over to me to deposit the handful of… stuff— beggared if _I_ know what it is beyond 'green' and 'probably part of a plant'— into one of the bags attached to the back of my saddle. "We're nearly done," he reassures me, only now taking the time to brush the clinging specks of pollen and leaf loam from the front of his trainee Healer uniform with both hands.

_:We?_: I query, _:I'm not the one who seems to get inordinate amounts of satisfaction out of crawling through the deepest, darkest, smelliest woods on their hands and knees.:_

"We're at the Home Farms, Teva, not the back-end of the Pelagirs," Jayk slaps my shoulder lightly, "and I asked you because— as you well know because you've been winding them up about it for the past _week_— Mum and Radi got stuck as part of the escort for the Court jig up to Greenlake."

_:I know, I know,_: I try not to sound smug but, honestly, I fail rather miserably. Words cannot _express_ how relieved I was when I heard that the Heraldic escort for the annual Court 'hunt' up at Greenlake was most definitely _not_ going to include either myself or Alexander in any way, shape or form. Once was more than enough.

Jayk gives me a knowing look; he's heard the story of What Happened When Teva Encountered The Court from both Alex _and_ Sam ever since he was a little child, and still seems to find the whole story overly amusing. In my defence; I didn't _realise_ that there was anyone in the tent at the time, and it wasn't like I _deliberately_ tripped over the guy-ropes.

Um… five times.

In quick succession.

It was a stupid place to pitch a tent, anyway. Being that close to a deep body of water is just _asking_ for trouble, in my opinion.

So there.

_:Why exactly are we out here, anyway?_: I look around and flick my tail from side to side. _:It's not like the Healer's Collegium hasn't got huge great big gardens stuffed with medicinal plant things.:_

"Medicinal plant things?"

I give a superior sniff. _:You heard me.:_

"Healer Vadi gave us a practical identification task for herbology," Jayk explains, rummaging around in the saddlebag still, trying to get everything fit without being all ground up to pieces.

I roll my eyes. _:So why couldn't you just get the plants from the huge great big gardens that Healer's has?_:

Jayk steps back and gives me a look. "Teva, all the plants in the gardens are _labelled_. Picking them there kind of defeats the whole 'field identification' part of the practical."

_:Oh, yeah,_: I unwillingly concede, _:I guess the gardens are all labelled—:_

"You _guess_?" Jayk gives me an amused look and crosses his arms over his chest. "You _exploit_ that fact."

_I have no idea what you could be talking about,_: I say loftily.

"Mmhmm, is that so?" Jayk gives me a disbelieving look. "It must be some other Companion who makes a habit of walking up to the entrance of the fungus sheds and hurling wildly inappropriate abuse at them."

_:I do not!_: I exclaim, pinning my ears back against my head and giving Jayk an affronted and embarrassed look.

"I hate to tell you this, Teva, but everyone in the second year and above has seen you do it at some point." Jayk doesn't look as if he hates _anything_ at the moment, as he walks past me, arms now swinging easily at his side, and off in some random direction. Mushroom head.

_:Why did my brother ever Choose your mother?_: I moan, _:I should have trampled you at first sight.:_

Jayk laughs and half turns to impudently stick his tongue out at me. "Oh, you wouldn't have done that," he says confidently.

_:And what makes _you_ so sure Mister Clever?_: I trail after him.

"Because you would have been mortally afraid that the child goo would have made your hooves drop off," Jayk deadpans, before turning around, lightning-fast, and tapping me on the nose.

I sigh theatrically. _:You're even worse than Alexander, you know that?_:

Jayk shrugs good-naturedly. "You Chose him," he points out, examining an entirely unpreposing looking weed that is growing up the side of a sickly looking beech tree. "You're in luck; climbing bitter ivy was the last plant on my list." He bends down and uproots the plant, then dangles it in front of my nose.

I give it, then him, an unimpressed look. _:Is that supposed to impress me?_:

Jayk moves around to the saddlebags again and concentrates on wrapping the ivy in a sheet of waxed linen, before bundling it into the bag and strapping it shut. "Well, it means we can head back to the city," he says. "And you can spend the afternoon doing highly important things like snoring."

_:I don't snore,_: I insist. _:Harali snores, I _complain_ about Harali snoring. There's an important difference.:_

Jayk pulls himself into the saddle and grips the pommel; we both elected against reins as being unnecessary and only likely to get in the way. By which I mean that if I had been trailing around this little patch of wilderness with reins I would have managed to tie myself to about seven different trees, would have probably fallen over at least once and would almost definitely have accidentally throttled myself at least twice. None of that, of course, would have been my fault.

One of the central facts of life that everyone needs to learn is that it is _never_ my fault. Even— in fact, _especially_— if all available evidence conclusively points to the contrary.

As soon as Jayk is settled in the saddle, I pick my way around in a relatively small circle and head in the direction of the particular farm whose woodland we have spent the morning trampling around in.

"From what I hear, you snore as well," Jayk teases me.

I turn my head and give him a flat look. _:I'd what that mouth unless you want me to start walking under lots of overhanging branch—:_

"Watch out for the bush, Teva!"

I whip my head back around and end up with a nose full of cloudberry leaves. _:Argh!_: I jerk backwards a few steps and level a malevolent glare at the bush. _:Who in the name of Kernos put _that_ there?_:

Jayk sighs loudly. "A main feature of woodland tends to be the large proportion of plant life, you know."

_:Picky, picky, picky,_: I mutter, still giving the bush mistrustful looks as I sidle around it. Thankfully, just on the other side of the bush is the trail that leads back to the main farm buildings. Given that the Home Farms are the preserve of the Royal Household, pretty much everything about it is _perfect_ and _exemplary_. What this means, in a practical sense, is that the trail is better condition than many of the roads I've had the misfortune to travel across in the course of a Circuit. This means that I can pick up my pace to something faster than a trot, but just shy of a full blown lope.

Jayk holds his seat in the saddle easily; counterbalancing my own movements almost as accurately as Alexander does. There are distinct advantages to having one's sole parent Chosen and being moved to Haven when you're not even three years old. Things like equitation, general lessoning and harassing Radi and myself also kept him occupied until his Gifts of Healing and Mindspeech became apparent at the age of eleven.

At that point, of course, he was snapped up by the Dean of Healer's Collegium and shoved unceremoniously into those weird green-grey colour uniforms that the poor trainee Healers are afflicted with. If that hadn't been the uniform for who-knows-how-long then I'd firmly blame the current Dean for that sartorial nightmare.

Not that I don't like Daska, because I do; after all, she did _save_ me from the evil, evil, nasty yucky mushroom things that time, but that woman has a mean streak the width of the Terilee at times. Usually when confronted with the fruits of yet _another_ prank by the Blues, I do have to admit.

At the pace I'm going, the trail quickly segues in to something resembling a road and we clatter past the wide double lych gates that lead to the main farm yard and out on to the main road back into Haven.

Once on the road, I stretch my legs out into a full lope and flare my nose. Running— as long as it's in a relatively straight line and there are no inconvenient obstructions such as trees, bushes, walls, buildings or other people— is one thing that I'm good at.

No, it's not the _only_ thing that I'm good at. I'm good at lots of things. _Lots._ What things?… um… hinds and hounds. I am truly…um… _unique_ in the way I play hinds and hounds.

Yeah.

_:So, what are you planning on doing for the rest of the day?_: I ask Jayk, as I easily swing out around a laden farm cart pulled by a plodding horse and overtake it. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the cart driver giving us a confused look. I guess the whole Healer-trainee-on-a-Companion thing _would_ be confusing.

"I've got to decoct the plants I collected in to their medicinal forms," Jayk half-shouts, pitching the words so that they aren't snatched away by the wind.

_:Well save me a front row seat,_: I say facetiously. Sitting in a cold room and boiling little bits of plants in to foul smelling— and even _worse_ tasting— liquids is not my idea of a good time. Also, there are the mushrooms to consider. It seems to be some unwritten _law_, or something that Healer's decanting rooms have to have ruddy great big bunches of mushrooms hanging from the ceiling.

'Drying out' _they_ call it. _I_ call it tempting fate. Who _knows_ when those perishing things might take it upon themselves to leap down off the ceiling beams, causing headaches and mayhem wherever they land?

One of the three cardinal rules of being me is _never trust a mushroom_. The other two are, of course; _always blame the mushrooms_ and _do unto the mushroom before it does unto you_.

That last one should preferably involve a blunt object of some description.

Something understated, yet adequate for the job.

Like a lead roofing tile.

The fact that Jayk is poking me in the neck brings me back to the real world that exists out_side_ of my head. _:What?_:

"You weren't listening to a word I was saying, and you'd better slow down or you're going to run us both smack into the back of a turnip cart."

I belatedly realise that I am fast coming up on a cart that is indeed loaded with turnips and moving at a crawl, and I hastily crow-hop to an almost-stop. Jayk grips onto the pommel of the saddle and endures being jolted back and forwards with remarkably little bad language. If— okay, _when_— I pull that particular move on Alex, he always peppers the air with expletives, then indulges in some pretty graphic hand gestures.

_I_ blame that Samyel. He's a corrupting influence. Yep.

Once I settle down into a walk, it's nigh on impossible to speed up again; without me entirely noticing, we're actually pretty close to Haven (the large, sprawling city thing kind of gives it away somewhat). Close to Haven means busy roads. Busy roads mean that spatially inaccurate creatures like myself need to keep themselves out of trouble otherwise they end up walking in to things like fruit stalls and coaching inns.

That generally ends up in bruising. Usually some contusions as well. Invariably a lecture from my Chosen, who is also usually sporting a black eye or a banged shin at this stage.

At this juncture I will remind you that _it's never my fault_. It's important that you remember that.

So we trail into Haven at a _crawl_. A pace that continues for most of the way through the warehouse district as would not _believe_ how many precariously laden and entirely too rickety looking wagons and carts there are trundling about. Anyone would think that Haven was the capital, or something!

Once through the main part of the warehouse district and into the actual mercantile district I mange to regain some speed. Only a trot, but that's still better than plodding along like a mule. It also means that I'm less likely to be ambushed by a sticky child of any description.

Due to the defensive nature of the city's construction (you basically have to walk five times the actual distance to _get_ anyplace), it takes nearly half a candlemark to get to the wall that separates the Palace-Collegium complex from the rest of the city. If I wasn't of the large, white equine persuasion, it would have taken about twice as long.

I flounce past the Palace guard at the gate— forcing Jayk to twist around in the saddle and call back;

"Healer-trainee Jayk Fleetin and Companion Teva!" in a voice that echoes down the tunnel-like passage through the wall.

"You could've stopped you know," Jayk then admonishes me. "Or even, I don't know, slowed down?"

I crick my neck around and poke my tongue out at him. _:I'm the one doing the ambulatory motion here, mister. You can just pipe down.:_

Jayk leans back in the saddle as I clatter to a halt in the yard that adjoins the Companion Stables. "You know," he says musingly, before falling silent and dismounting gracefully.

_:You know, what?_: I watch him suspiciously as he unhooks the saddlebags, dumps them on the floor, then uncinches my saddle with one easy set of movements.

"Well, I _was_ going to give you a groom before I went back to Healer's," he says, as he pulls the saddle off of my back. "But I don't think I will, now."

_:You _what?_— you— you— after I lugged your fat behind all the way out into the countryside and back again—!_: I stamp a front hoof and glare at Jayk with narrowed eyes. _:I'll hold your plants to hostage!_: I then decide loudly, stamping down on one of the saddlebag's straps with a hind foot. _:We'll see how far you get boiling things out here in the yard!_:

"I see Teva's being as rational and observant as usual," the familiar voice makes me twitch my ears and glance towards the Stables. Alexander is leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. As soon as he realises that I've noticed him, he quirks an eyebrow and smirks at me.

_:Pffft!_: I treat him to a loud mental tongue-farting sound.

"Nice to see you today as well, my dear," Alex says easily.

Jayk bumps me on the nose with an elbow and gives me an innocent look. "See, _I_ noticed your Chosen and I figured that you'd rather have him groom you," he says cheerfully. I don't believe him for a moment.

And now both of them are looking at me and they've got _reasonable_ expressions. Blergh.

"So if you'd kindly give Jayk's plants their freedom back…?" Alex's eyebrow lifts higher and I flatten my ears.

I _hate_ it when he uses logic against me. That's not fighting fair.

I sniff loudly, flatten my ears and grudgingly remove my hoof from the bag, leaving behind a rather dusty partial hoof-print on it.

Alex pushes himself up from the wall and strides easily over towards us. He accepts the armful of saddle from Jayk, so that the younger man can stoop to pick up the two stuffed saddlebags, then looks at me.

"Come on then, brave adventurer, I'll give you a grooming— see you later, Jayk."

"See you, Alex," Jayk grins and heads off towards the House of Healing.

"So, did you have fun?" Alex asks me conversationally, as he begins to walk towards the tack room.

_:It was an epic battle of Companion against mushroom,_: I announce grandly ad I follow after him, pricking my ears. _:It would have all gone very badly for a certain Healer trainee if hadn't been there to save the day!_:

Alex laughs and ducks inside the Stables.

_:It would have!_: I insist. _:Those mushrooms are sneaky and devious things! No one is safe from them, not unless I'm around to save the day!_:

You know what? That's true, as well.


End file.
